


Learn To Be Soft

by ghost_bitch



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Could be read as zadr ig, Fluff, High School, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Its ur life, Science, Science Fiction, Shrinking, ZADF, do i care, is this ooc, nah, yes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2020-10-25 03:37:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20717462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghost_bitch/pseuds/ghost_bitch
Summary: When Dib is shrunk down by the powers of poor lab safety, he has to stay with Zim until they can find a cure. Zim, for one, has to learn how to not kill things through general reckless abandon. For the first time in a very long time, he has to be gentle.





	1. Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for reading! Just a heads up, there is a panic attack like..  
3/4ths of a way through the first chapter. It isnt really graphic, but if it bothers you dont worry about skipping over it!
> 
> With love
> 
> Ghostbitch

To say that the strides that Dib and Zim had taken were impressive would be a gross understatement. They were teetering on the edge of being best friends, although neither of them would admit that, and Dib was sure that counted for something considering that they had started their relationship quite literally at each other’s throats.  
Now though, Dib was at a crossroads. He felt something strangely akin to affection build in his chest when he thought of the strange alien, and despite that, he had an excuse ready for himself every time he went to go hang out with the brazen creature. He wanted to take more notes on how he emoted, he wanted to interview his computer, he wanted to find out how to deactivate his home security. This time, though, he had actually been invited. Zim wanted assistance in the lab, apparently, and when Dib asked why he couldn't just have Gir do it, Zim had begun screaming unintelligibly about his foolishness and promptly slammed down the receiver. 

Dib rolled his eyes at the memory of the alien’s many eccentricities and knocked on the door, one hand on his tazer. It may no longer be necessary, but hey, old habits die hard.  
The door flung open, nearly hitting Dib in the face, and before he could bemoan his near concussion, he was grabbed by the wrist and tugged inside the strange narrow house at inhuman speeds. 

Dib took a mental note of Gir waving at him warmly from the couch, clearly not doing anything and able to help with the experiment. Dib smiled at Zim’s transparent attempts to spend time with him.  
“You know, you could have just asked to hang out. We could have watched a movie or something. All this pretense seems a liiiittle unnecessary.” Dib teased the alien, still being pulled along by his deceptively strong arms. Zim whipped around, a look of mortal offense distorting his face.  
“WHATTT? ZIM DOES NOT WANT TO ‘HANG OUT’! I MERELY NEED YOU TO CARRY MY TOOLS!” Zim shouted, pausing for a moment in his tugging of Dib’s arm. Dib gestured towards the couch behind him with the hand that was not attached to a wrist being clutched tightly by an alien. An alien with claws. Dib winced slightly at the pinching in his skin.  
“Gir is right over there. He could do it for you. And I know for a fact that your weird robots do chores for you all the time.” Dib said matter-of-factly. If Zim could blush (Dib wasn't sure if he could, but it seemed like his cheeks were a darker green then he was used to.) then he was certainly doing it now. Although whether that was due to rage or from being flustered Dib had yet to learn. 

“HOW DARE YOU-” Ah, yes then. Rage. Dib decided to cut him off before Zim set fire to his coat a fourth time. He honestly couldn't keep going through coats like this.  
“Awww! Zim likes me!” Dib crowed, wrenching his hand out of Zim’s increasingly tightening grip to clutch the sides of his face with both hands in an exaggerated display of affection. “Zim loovveeess me! He wants to spend alllll his waking hours with meeee!” Dib sings out, Dancing around the cluttered room while Gir laughs at Dib’s overblown show.  
Zim screams in rage, and as soon as the idea that it may have been a better use of his time to calm Zim down instead of riling him up more flits across his brain, he is on the ground, having been tackled by the small alien. 

000

Its been around forty minutes since Dib had entered Zim’s ‘home base’, and the two boys still had only barely managed to set foot inside of Zim’s lab, having spent most of the time upstairs rolling around on the living room carpet as they wrestled. 

Dib scowled in disgust as he pulled a half-eaten hard candy off of his jacket from its place among a thick layer of dust and grime that had stuck to his coat.  
“Honestly, do you ever vacuum?” Dib complained. Zim flipped him off over his shoulder without looking, and Dib gaped, stopping in his tracks.  
“Who taught you that!” Dib asked, laughing at the very human expression of annoyance that the alien performed. Zim sniffed, sticking his non-existent nose into the air haughtily.  
“Zim does not need to be taught anything. I have always known about ‘flipping the bird’, I just had no need to do so until now.” 

Dib huffs out a laugh and walks ahead of Zim and towards the table covered in mechanical parts and bubbling liquids. He had gained some height on Gaz since entering hi skool and had begun to set a hand on her head whenever he passed her, much to her chagrin.  
This height advantage was far more noticeable with Zim than with his sister, and he found himself habitually setting a hand on Zim’s head, forgetting about the Irken’s sensitive antennae and lightning-fast reflexes. 

The moment his hand touched Zim’s head, pushing down his antenna on either side, both his arms were grabbed with clawed hands and he crashed onto the table in much the same way that a cop would slam someone down onto the hood of a car.  
Unfortunately for Dib, this happened to be the table covered in delicate and dangerous alien lab equipment. 

000 

Honestly… Zim would like to say that all of this was part of his incredible master plan to take over the world, but this strange turn of events was completely unplanned.  
One moment he had been ready to explain the procedure for this particular experiment to Dib, the next he had felt someone touching him without warning and before he even had a chance to consider his actions, the table was nearly bent in half and Dib was groaning in pain on top of it. 

Zim was fully ready to berate the human for touching him without his express permission, and hopefully even get some apology cake out of it, but instead, the Dib-stink disappeared out from under his hold.  
Zim immediately reeled backward in surprise at the sudden change, staggering to the other side of the room in order to distance himself from whatever had made Dib invisible or evaporated or whatever. Zim took a moment to process what had happened, and then took a tentative step forward, waving a hand frantically in front of him to see if the Dib still was in the room, and Zim’s advanced eyes just couldn't see him. Zim felt no presence in front of him, and drew both arms up to his chest, keeping his vision clear so he could look for his nemesis. 

Suddenly, paralyzed by one of those sickly human...emotions, (ugh, Zim shuddered at the mere thought.) Zim found that he was… concerned.  
He stood there for a few more moments, and despite his superior brain he couldn't seem to think far enough past his wretched concern to figure out what to do next. He stood in his lab, resolutely ignoring the slight shake in his breath until he heard something. His antenna twitched at the sound, and he looked towards the source of the noise. 

There, on the ground, and far too close to his boots for comfort, was Dib. The two stared at each other for a moment, Dib catching his breath after the ceaseless yelling he had been doing in order to get Zim’s attention, and Zim just staring in shock at the unexpected development of his afternoon. He slowly removed his protective goggles and rested them out of the way and on his forehead, all the while never taking his eyes off Dib’s small form.  
“Huh. Well, that didn't go as expected.” Zim said casually, still not looking away from his nemesis. It was rather hard to see Dib’s expressions from where he was standing, but he could definitely see a palpable mixture of abject horror and rage contorting his paltry face. (Yes, he was getting better at identifying human emotions, thank you for asking.) 

Zim wanted to get closer to check on Dib’s physical condition. Not because he was worried (he wasn't!), he just wanted to see if whatever had done this to him had any other effects on the other boy’s appearance. Zim knelt down, putting a hand to his chin curiously, not noticing the way Dib seemed to draw into himself fearfully and take a few large steps backward. 

000

Zim loomed over Dib in a way that only happened in his worst nightmares, and as he got closer, resting on his knees so as to better see Dib, he was suddenly reminded of their younger days, both completely willing and able to destroy each other for their own benefit. His brain, being overwhelmed with adrenaline and the disorientation that came with the sudden change in stature, was having trouble keeping his memories in order. At that moment, he felt like he had so many times in elementary skool, helpless and afraid. 

His terror gave way to restless energy, and before he even knew what he was doing, he was attempting to run back underneath the table. He had never studied creatures inside of the bounds of humanity before, but he knew intrinsically, that shade meant safety.  
He hadn't made it very far before he was surrounded around the middle by tightly gripping fingers, claws digging painfully into the soft flesh of his torso. He cried out, thrashing against the hold, everything in his body was telling him to run, to get to safety, crawl somewhere protected and lick his metaphorical and literal wounds.  
The hand grasping him, now moving upwards at impressive speeds, stuttered slightly at his resistance. The hand readjusted so that its claws were no longer pressing into his skin. Dib relaxed slightly but did not cease in his struggle. 

“STOP YOUR PITIFUL HUMAN STRUGGLING! ZIM IS TRYING TO HELP YOU!”  
The noise washed over him along with a sharp pain through his head. If his arms weren't being held down, he would have clapped his hands over his ears. Instead, he did the next best thing in his adrenaline-fueled state. He let out a pained cry, slightly choked due to the painful pressure around his ribs.

The hand around him stopped moving, and the only sound in the basement lab was his panicked breathing and the whirr of alien machinery. Then, the hand began moving downwards, much more slowly this time and set him on the cold ground.  
The hand retreated equally slowly, apparently trying to avoid having Dib run off again. 

000

Zim had certainly heard Dib in pain before, he had been the cause of many of those screams in fact, but there was something different about this one. He had never heard Dib make a noise like that. As undignified as he could often be, he had never sounded so… animalistic before. Pained and strangled and terrified. Zim cursed under his breath another round of ‘emotions’ that plagued him, twisting his guts and making him feel ill. He thought back to the ‘cheat-sheet’ of human emotions that Dib had given him. This one felt like a mixture of his previous ‘concern’ and… guilt? Ooo! That was a new one!

Zim looked down at Dib, who was picking himself up off the dirty tile with shaky limbs and resited the urge to grab at him again if only to keep him from running back into danger. Zim was the only one allowed to put him into danger! Still, though, Zim resisted his urge to grab his miniature nemesis again. He looked like he needed a few moments to process the changes that he had undergone. 

Zim was superior in almost every way to the pitiful humans, but he must admit that he had trouble making himself unnoticed. Despite his disguises, he was not skilled in blending in. Now was an indisputable example of that. He had often fantasized of being taller than his rival since Dib’s ‘growth spurt’, but these skewed proportions made him feel more clumsy and overbearing than powerful. 

000

Dib was reeling, to put it lightly. Everything from the large molecules of dirt that cut against his soft palms, to the once small sounds of Zim’s breathing. He was still shaken from being grabbed but did his best not to give in to the instinct of fleeing again, so as not to risk being snatched back up off the ground by rough hands unused to caring for anything other than themselves. 

Dib knew couldn't stare at the floor and catch his breath forever. The sooner they figured out whatever had happened to him the sooner they could start working on a cure for his strange ailment. Dib hesitantly took his eyes away from the chilled linoleum he sat on, and turned his face upwards to Zim, hovering over him worriedly(although if Dib asked, Zim would deny it fervently). Dib swallowed nervously. He was not a huge fan of this development, especially not how much height it gave Zim on him. He loomed over him, quite literally, as he was now on his hands and knees, face hovering what seemed to be five-stories up. 

Dib stood to his full, if diminished, height. He still wanted whatever dignity he still possessed in his small body, after all.  
“Zim! Don't grab me like that! You have claws!” Dib yelled out, cupping his hands around his mouth. Zim made a confused face and held a hand behind his ear.  
“WHAATT?” He shouted, making Dib stumble backward a bit at the volume. Dib tried to amplify his voice with his hands a second time but didn't even manage to get out the first syllable before being shouted over yet again.  
“WHAAAAAT?” Zim shouted again, louder than before. Dib brought his hands up to his ears and winced at the pain in his head. He looked back up at Zim indignantly, frowning at the alien. He throws his arms upwards in a universal sign for ‘what the fuck is your problem’ and blinks in bewilderment. 

Zim sits back a bit, reaching around him to adjust something on his PAK. When he turns back around, he looks at Dib expectantly.  
“Okay, I should be able to hear you now. I changed how I hear your frequency.” Zim said matter of factly, acting like he hadn't just performed a scientific miracle. Dib relaxes, a long breath leaving his lungs. If Zim can hear him, then he is in significantly less danger than before. Zim could be fast when he wanted to be, and if he called for help he had a pretty good chance of reaching him before disaster struck. That is if he wanted to reach him.  
Dib shoved away those darker thoughts. He had no choice but to trust his childhood rival now. ‘Besides,’ Dib reasoned to himself. ‘If he wanted to kill me by now he would have.’ 

000

Zim has started to calm down from the shock fo the initial transformation and instead can see a glorious field of opportunity opening up in front of him. Much of this field consists of making fun of the earth-monkey.  
He decides to begin his plan to annoy Dib immediately and reaches towards his small body to poke at his side curiously. Dib attempts to slap his hand away angrily, but Zim persists at his aggravation, pinching the back of his coat between his thumb and forefinger and lifting him off the ground, laughing at his enemies’ frantic kicks in the air and enraged swear as he attempted to wiggle out of Zim’s grasp.  
“Oooh! How cute!” Zim says demurely, at last exacting his revenge on the humiliation Dib had put him through upstairs. “You're little enough to feed to Gir! He’d eat you too, that kid has some problems.” Zim smirks, an idea to him suddenly.  
“Or maybe…” He says, lifting the writhing figure to hang above his mouth. “I'll just eat YOU!” Zim says jovially, laughing at Dib’s horrified expression. Satisfied with the reaction he got, he went to lower Dib back onto the floor but stopped when Dib began struggling with much more vigor, startling Zim enough to nearly drop him into his mouth on accident. Startled by the near-miss, Zim quickly pulls Dib away from his face and cups him in his hands, furrowing his eyebrows. Why did Dib have such a strong reaction to such an obviously empty threat? 

000

Dib felt the beginnings of panic rising in his chest, like hot water bent on choking the life out of him from the inside as Zim dangled him over his open mouth. He stilled, brain going into survival mode and allowing basic instincts to take over the forefront of his mind. In whatever coherent part of his mind left, he knew that there was no way Zim was being serious. He had outgrown trying to eat him years ago, but still, the panic in his brain refused to listen to his reasoning. All he knew was that he was being threatened by something over a thousand times his size and that he had no real way to escape. Despite knowing that Zim could overwhelm him with one hand, he still tried to wiggle out of his grip. Dib felt the back of his coat slip slightly out from between Zim’s fingers and inched ever closer to his face. Dib doubled his efforts immediately and was quickly yanked away from the mouth, momentum carrying him too far and causing him to swing from the back of his coat like a kitten in its mother’s jaw. 

He drops slightly and is disoriented for a moment until he realized that he is being cupped in uncharacteristically gentle clawed hands. He can feel the vibrations of Zim talking underneath him, but can't make out the words past the ringing in his ears. 

000

Zim stares in bewilderment at the quivering body in his hands, not responding to any of his verbal jabs or questions. Zim cursed as he realized this must be Dib’s body’s reaction to the reduction in size. It couldn't be easy on the cells to be shrunk down more than a one-hundredth of your original size. Zim frowned at Dib’s pained movements and shouts over to the computer.  
“HEY! COMPUTER-” Zim cuts himself off, remembering Dib’s current sensitive hearing. “Computer,” He continues in a lower volume. “Do a medical scan on the Dib-rat! There's something wrong with the thing!” 

The computer beeps exasperatedly as it pulls up the results of the scan. How it managed to beep sarcastically Zim has no idea. 

“He has an accelerated heart-rate of 130, along with heart palpitations, and shortness of breath.” The Computer said plainly. Zim rolled his eyes and tried to convince himself that his concern was merely annoyance at Computer’s pretentiousness.  
“Yes,” Zim drawled, annoyed. “But what does that mean?”  
“It seems like he is having a limited-symptom panic attack.” The computer finished, sounding equally annoyed with Zim’s sharpness. If Zim hadn't been holding Dib’s entire life in his hands, he may have flailed his arms wildly in frustration.  
“Panic! Foolish! Zim is the only one capable enough to attack Dib!” Zim cried, mindful of his volume despite his thinly veiled distress. “How do I get rid of this Panic? Is it a surgical procedure? I think he might be too small to operate on right now…” Zim trails off, adjusting his hands to better inspect Dib’s form and run through the sharp instruments he had lying around, and which would be small enough to perform invasive surgery on someone barely bigger than his hand.  
“No operations are necessary right now.” Zim swallowed back a sigh of relief. “Take deep breaths and make sure he can hear them. Count to ten slowly. Speak in short, simple sentences. No erratic movements. They will calm down eventually.” Computer listed robotically. Zim took a mental note of the process and began deepening his breaths so that they would be more noticeable to the small figure still cupped in his hands. 

Zim slowly lowered himself to the floor, counting to ten in the most controlled and steady voice he had at his disposal, which is to say, it sounded like a cat being put in a garbage disposal. It took several different iterations of counting to ten before Dib started to become aware of his surroundings again.  
Despite Dib being back in touch with reality, the two boys just sit in silence for a few minutes, content to let them calm their respective nerves. 

000

Eventually, Zim breaks the oppressive silence of the basement to ask a question.  
“Did you actually think Zim was going to hurt you?” Despite his exuberant body language, his tone gave away his true worries. As much as he denied it, he really did value Dib’s trust, and to lose it, or worse, learn that it was never there at all, would really hurt him. 

Dib shrugs guiltily at the question, still not able to bring himself to face Zim while speaking to him.  
“I don't know if its the same thing for your species, but when humans are under a lot of stress, out higher brain functions just kind of… turn off. All of our instincts come back up to the surface. And I was under a lot of stress. I guess my head just wasn't on straight.” Dib admits, attempting to stand on Zim’s hand, but falling back again when a muscle twitched reflexively.  
“Besides,” Dib sighs out from where he is sitting. “You have to admit, you're not the best at remembering how delicate humans are compared to you. Remember when I asked how sharp your claws were, and I had to go to the hospital because you hit an artery when you tried to show me? I don't blame you, it would be hard to get used to for me too, but it’s still something to be considered.” Dib pauses for a moment, and then his face sinks into something tired. “Especially like this.”

Zim considered Dib’s words. He was right, after all. His species was built differently from humans. Irkens were built to be walking weapons, humans were built to travel long distances and adapt to any environment they come across.  
One wrong move from Zim and - boom! His worst enemy and closest friend is gone forever. Zim feels sick at the thought and has the urge to punch himself in the stomach in order to rid himself of the feeling. He probably would have done it if Dib wasn't sitting in his hands. 

“HAH! Do you think that the mighty Zim is incapable of being cautious? I'll show you! I'll be the most gentle creature on the planet!” Zim bellows proudly, taking Dib’s words as a challenge. Zim looks down at Dib, and his expression turns slightly sheepish as he sees Dib wincing and holding his hands over his ears to guard against the torrent of noise coming from Zim.  
“Starting now.” Zim corrects at a whisper.


	2. Jackets and Shovel Talks

Its been a couple of hours since the failed experiment, and by now they had both calmed down considerably. Zim was working on modifying a dollhouse bed into something more suitable for his temporary housemate while Dib stood nearby on the desk, watching him work disinterestedly. Dib walked a bit closer to the small bed, and Zim resisted the urge to swat him away from his personal bubble. 

“Where did you even get this?” Dib asks, running a finger along the headboard. Zim pauses in his tinkering for a moment, although he doesn't look up from the bed.   
“Oh, I stole it from my neighbor's daughter,” Zim says matter of factly. Dib lets out a small peal of laughter and leans on the bedframe, causing it to wobble slightly until Zim steadies it with a pointed glare towards his assailant.  
“Aw! It's so sweet that you would steal for me, Zim.” Dib baits, waiting for a reaction. Instead, he simply got a huff and a large finger resting on his head.   
“Get your head out of your ass, Dib-stink. I stole this junk months ago.” Zim sniffs out proudly. Dib wants to ask more questions but decides not to push his luck with badgering Zim at this size. He may not hurt him on purpose, but Zim had a tendency to talk with his hands. Especially when he was upset, and one wrong move could send Dib plummeting off the table. 

Dib instead takes to walking around the cluttered desk, examining the papers that littered it, although he had to stand on top of them in order to read them. He finds that he doesn't mind too much, as he finds a particularly interesting document to skim over. He has only been reading for a few minutes when he is startled by Zim barking his name in surprise. Dib whips around to see what has gotten him so upset, but the moment he does so, he sees a wall of green light pass by his face, beam of plasma coming close enough to burn his nose.   
Zim is staring at the scorched circle of desk, ray gun still smoking in his hands, and Dib looks at him, open-mouthed.   
“What!” Dib yells, throwing his arms into the air. “The fuck!” Zim glares at him.   
“The fuck,” Zim began indignantly, crossing his spindly arms. “Is that you were about an inch away from being filled with spider venom!” Dib blinks in surprise, crouching down to get a better look at the charred portion of the table. Sure enough, lying next to the damage was a disembodied spider leg, still twitching with residual nerves.   
“You should be more aware of your surroundings.” Zim huffs, returning his attention to the small bed. Dib rolls his eyes, sitting down next to Zim’s hand.   
“Oh, my apologies. I'm just not used to being big enough to be spider food!” Dib grumbles, resting his chin in his hand. He wouldn't admit it to Zim, but the close call with the spider had shaken him up a bit, and he wanted to put himself close to the safest being in the room presently. How unfortunate that that being had to be Zim. 

There’s around a minute of slightly tense silence before Dib finally thinks of something to say.   
“Thanks for killing that spider. You have good aim.” He says plainly, not looking at Zim. Zim blinks underneath his protective goggles and pauses in his work. Why he needed goggles to modify a dollhouse bed Dib didn't want to know. After his moment of surprise, Zim scoffs, crossing his arms.   
“Please! I never miss.” He says loftily.   
“I've watched you miss a tree that was four feet away.” Dib rebukes easily.   
“Oh if only I could hear little Dib-pig! He's simply too small to hear! If I could hear him he would be saying that I never miss.” Zim wailed melodramatically. Dib frowned, shoving at the alien’s hand irritatedly.   
“I know you can hear me dumbshit! You were just talking to me!” 

000

Zim, infuriatingly enough, continued to ignore Dib until he was finished improving the dollhouse bed. Dib has nearly fallen asleep by then, leaning against Zim’s warm hand. Zim leans back in his chair to examine his work, causing Dib to overbalance and fall onto his side. Dib groans and rolls over so that he’s lying on his stomach, eyes roaming over the bed.   
“It looks good,” Dib comments, stretching his arms over his head. He looks back up to Zim, who doesn't seem to be listening to him, instead looking around the room with a thoughtful expression.   
“We’re going to have to go food shopping.” Zim declared finally, standing up from his chair and rolling his shoulders a bit to relieve them of the stiffness that came with sitting still for so long. Dib looks around the room as well, head resting on crossed arms, still not wanting to stand up.   
“There's food here,” Dib argues, gesturing to the piles of food that the alien and his metallic servant left lying around. Zim makes a face.   
“Please, I think the stuff that Gir eats would kill a human. Besides,” Zim says. “I wanted to see if I could find some books on human babies.” 

Dib lets out a sound that could only be described as a squawk, pushing himself up a bit on his elbows.   
“Zim, I'm not a baby!” Dib shrieks indignantly. Zim throws his arms up in exasperation.   
“Well, what do you want me to do monkey-boy? This is new to me!” Zim says, thankfully not yelling too loud. Now it sounded like sitting to close to the speakers at a concert rather than a jet engine taking off. 

There are a few moments of silence while Zim puts on his disguise, and Dib has almost drifted off again when he hears Zim speak again. Dib opens one eye to feign attentiveness.  
“I… don't actually know what you are supposed to eat…” Zim says. If Dib didn't know him any better he would have said that Zim was embarrassed. Dib shrugs, although he's not sure if Zim can see it from across the room, and swings himself into a sitting position.   
“Okay. I'll just go with-” Dib is cut off as Zim slams his hands on the table dramatically next to him. The table shakes and Dib loses his balance, falling flat on his ass.   
“No!” Zim barks out shrilly. Dib glances up to his assailant with a flat look. Zim gives him a half-hearted apologetic look before continuing.  
“What are you, crazy? If any other humans see you, it won't be me getting dissected.” He finishes. Dib put a hand to a chin. He hated to admit it, but Zim actually had a point there.   
“Yeah, but I also don't want to be eating stale chips and frosting for as long as I'm stuck like this.” Dib disputes, climbing up onto Zim’s hand and laughing slightly as he watched the alien focus on not twitching and throwing him off. 

They are both silent for a few moments while they try to think of a solution. Eventually, Dib snaps his fingers with a loud “Ah-ha!”, causing Zim to jump slightly, nearly causing Dib to fall off of his hand. Dib manages to get a good enough grip on his gloves to avoid falling off completely.   
“I could just hide in one of your pockets-” Dib cuts himself off, noticing that there was a distinct lack of pockets on Zim’s uniform. Dib slumps a bit, somewhat disappointed that his idea wouldn't work. It doesn't take long before he perks back up, though, having another brilliant idea.  
"You could borrow one of my old coats! Those things are full of pockets!" Dib says, beaming with pride at his problem-solving skills.   
Zim rolls his now human eyes, and Dib wonders when he learned that.   
"That would require getting into your home, Dib. Which would mean your familial units will know I have something to do with your sudden disappearance." Zim drawled, voice dripping with cynicism.   
"Do you have a better idea then, smartass?" Dib muttered, slightly embarrassed at having holes poked in his brilliant plan so easily. Zim sighed, defeat apparent in his voice.   
"No..." He admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. He straightens back up quickly and turns to Gir, who appears to be racing beetles in the corner.   
"Gir!" Gir looked up at his master curiously. "Watch over Dib while I'm out." Gir nodded obediently, and Zim marched out of the house. After the door slammed, it was quickly opened again to reveal Zim peeking out from behind it.   
"And don't eat him!" He shouts to Gir before closing the door for a final time. 

Dib watches Zim leave and then turns back to Gir, who is staring at him as if trying to figure out some great secret.   
"Did you change your hair?" Gir asks brightly. Zim sighs deeply. This was going to be a long fifteen minutes. 

000

Zim doesn't stop in his brisk walk to appreciate that despite all the annoying things that had happened today, it wasn't raining. Maybe the world really wasn't out to get him. On the other hand, Dib's father-unit is the one to open the door when he knocks though, so clearly he has pissed off some higher power (he has a few guesses of which one).   
"Hello, Dib's weird little friend! Do you happen to know where Dib is? He hasn't been home all day, so I figured he was with you." Professor Membrane asks, and Zim freezes, cursing himself for not having the foresight to think of an excuse before being put on the spot. 

"Dib will... not be home for a while..." Zim manages, already beginning to sweat. "We are working on a...science project. Yes. One where... he has to hide...in my...basement?"   
There is a long silence in which the two just stare at each other, and Zim feels like he is going to crack under the pressure of the scientist's unseen stare.   
The professor breaks the tension with a bright smile that Zim also couldn't see.   
"Ah! How wonderful! He often slacks off on his schoolwork to go out chasing monsters! I'm glad he is taking this seriously." The Professor chuckles to himself over his son's antics and leads Zim inside before walking off to his labs to work on whatever it is that he worked on. 

On his way to Dib's room, Zim passes his sister's, who calls him inside. Slightly surprised, Zim pushes the door open and stands awkwardly in the plush carpet.   
She does not look up from her game to speak to him, but her voice carried an undeniable undercurrent of seriousness.

"I heard what you said downstairs." She says, clicking furiously on one of those 'cree-per' things on the screen. "I know you two have been getting along better since middle skool, but you still have given me no reason to trust you around my brother." She says cooly, making Zim feel all too much like he was receiving one of the 'shovel-talks' that Dib had told him about. There is the sound of an explosion from her computer, making Zim jump in surprise, and the screen goes red. Gaz clicks her tongue disapprovingly and turns her red and black chair to look at Zim.   
"Be honest with me. Is he hurt?" She asks, and Zim shakes his head. Gaz pauses, her mouth twitching downward.   
"Is he going to be?" She asks, voice bleeding thinly veiled concern.   
"Hopefully not. I'm doing my best to prevent that." Zim says, almost embarrassed to admit that he was protecting the human he had once been so eager to kill.   
"Is he really coming back?" Gaz asks, and for all her intimidation tactics, she sounds genuinely nervous to ask.   
"Yes." Zim answers without hesitation. Gaz seems satisfied, and turns back to her game, clicking one of the buttons on the red screen. 

Zim turns to take his leave but pauses as he hears Gaz speak again.   
"Tell him to stop being such a dumbass." She says flatly. Zim huffs out a small laugh.   
"I'll tell him you said hi." He assures before leaving, closing the door behind him. 

Zim walks towards the door marked with Dib's name and scribbled writing reading 'no Zim's allowed!'. The handwriting was clumsy enough that it was likely written in elementary skool.   
Zim smiles to himself a bit, not that he would ever tell Dib that, and opens the door into the dark room.   
The first thing he notices is the annoying amount of screens, seemingly the only thing emitting light in the room. The next is a large corkboard on the far wall, covered in red string and pictures of Zim. Zim openly laughed at the display and considered making his own of Dib to just to annoy him. He pushes that idea out of the way for later consideration and moves towards Dib's messy closet, screwing up his face a bit at the piles of clothes that littered the ground. 

After a few moments of digging, Zim manages to find what he's looking for, a pale pink Letterman's jacket, that had to be full of pockets! Zim noticed that the human must have grown out of the jacket a while ago, as it was only slightly too big for Zim. He scowled at the reminder of his nemesis's comparative height, and begins the short walk back home, marveling at the comfort the jacket provided now that the air was no longer touching his skin. 

000

Gir has been surprisingly easy to deal with, despite Dib's size. Even though Zim has been gone a little more than ten minutes, Dib had kind of expected to have to defend himself from some of the robot's antics. Instead, they end up doing something almost strangely normal for the situation. Playing cards. Or at least, trying to before Gir started eating all the cards that he won. Dib is trying to push Gir away as he attempted to eat Dib’s cards as well when Zim kicks the door open.   
“Zim has returned!” He bellowed loudly, thankfully not close enough to Dib to cause permanent hearing damage. Dib gives him a flat look at his volume but stops when he remembers that Zim probably can't make out his expression from the doorway. 

Dib stands up, stumbling a bit on the soft surface of the couch. He gets a better look at Zim and his eyes widen slightly in recognition.   
“Oh wow! I forgot I had that jacket. It goes really well with your skin.” Dib compliments, causing Zim’s face to darken imperceptively. Zim crosses his arms, unused to the praise.   
“Hah! I don't need you to tell me that! Stupid! I know it looks great! I look great in everything!” He stutters, and Dib chuckles underneath his hand.   
“You can keep it if you want to. It's too small for me- well I guess right now it's too big, but soon it will be too small for me.” Dib says as Gir eats the remaining playing cards.   
“Like Zim needed your permission to take this stupid trash jacket anyway…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading!! If you liked it or have anything to add, I read all the comments!! Even if I dont respond, I read them! I also can take small scene requests to slot into the story if you leave them in the comments, although I might not be able to find a good place for all of them!! 
> 
> XOXO
> 
> ghostbitch 👻


	3. Chapter 3

The two boys come to a standstill when the issue about how exactly they are going to get Dib in the pocket arises. Zim is hesitant to pick him up again, remembering how Dib reacted the last time he picked him up. Dib is equally unsure of whether or not to let Zim pick him up, still nursing the shallow cuts on his side that he earned when Zim tried to stop him from running away. The awkward stalemate ends when Zim pinches the back of his jacket and bringing him up a few inches into the air.   
“What if I just kinda…” Zim mutters as he does it, not waiting for Dib’s input. Dib writhes a bit in surprise at the sudden shift in position, but quickly stills, not wanting to be dropped, and tries to push down the residual fear from the last time Zim held him this way. 

Zim holds the edge of the pocket open, and drops Dib inside, where he crumples at the bottom, the wind knocked out of him. Once he gains his breath back, Dib is mildly surprised at how comfortable the small enclosure is. Despite the crumbs and sand gathered at the seam, it feels similar to a warm, dark hammock, swaying in time with Zim’s breaths. In fact, if it wasn't for Zim’s heartbeat pounding next to him, it would feel entirely like he was lying in a hammock on the beach at night.   
At least it did until a nearly blinding amount of light was let in by Zim as he pulled open the lip of the pocket and peered inside with one magenta eye.   
“You're not going to get squished in there right? I know you humans have a tendency to do that.” Zim says, something oddly accusatory in his voice. Dib shifts around a bit, testing the amount of space that he was allowed in the folds of fabric. Satisfied, he gives a thumbs up.   
“Should be fine as long as you don't like… I don't know, get punched in the chest or something?” Dib says, changing his position a bit to get more comfortable. Zim nods slightly, although Dib can only see one of his eyes, and lets go of the opening of the pocket, leaving Dib in comfortable darkness once again. 

000

As Zim walks to the store, he finds himself uncomfortably conscious of his movements, breathing, and even his own heartbeat, all too aware of how it could be affecting the small person in his chest pocket. He hated it.   
His annoyance at having to think about basic body functions comes out thorough him glaring ferociously at every stranger who looks his way. No, it's not so that none of them would catch a glimpse of the odd outline in his pocket, he's just irritated and taking it out on strangers. 

They finally reach the small store in town and Zim begins wandering around, occasionally whispering to his pocket, asking what Dib wants, and picking up a few things for Gir and himself. He doesn't talk to Dib while he’s checking out, nor when he's walking back home, not wanting to call more attention to himself and his small passenger than necessary. 

Zim walks back inside and sighs with relief at the feeling of relative solitude, dropping his bags of groceries on the floor and calling for Gir to put them away before collapsing onto the couch.   
He groans loudly, half out of irritation with having to interact with people so far below him and half for the sake of dramatics before opening his pocket to let in some light for Dib.   
“Hey Dib, we’re home. I got your stupid food.” Zim mutters, head still resting on the back of the couch. Zim furrows his eyebrows when he feels no movement to escape the confines of the pocket aginast his chest. Zim peeks into the open pocket curiously. He still felt the weight of the small body pressed against his chest, so he wasn't worried that Dib had somehow fallen out while he wasn't looking. Zim frowns when he sees that Dib is lying on his still on his side, unmoving. Zim says his name again, slightly louder this time and pokes him with a claw, hoping he’s not being rough enough to break his thin skin. He still does not glean a reaction from the small human, causing him to worry that something had knocked him unconscious, or even killed him. With that uncomfortable thought fresh in his mind, Zim pulls on the lip of the pocket, hopefully jostling it enough to get a reaction out of his pocket’s resident. 

However, he is still greeted with nothing but silence. Zim sticks his tongue out from between sharp teeth in concentration as he carefully digs two fingers into the depths of the pocket, curling them underneath the warm body and lifting him out of the fabric.   
Once Dib is curled in his palm, Zim begins theorizing on what could have knocked him unconscious. Human’s needed oxygen, right? Maybe he hadn't gotten enough and suffocated? Zim pokes at Dib a couple of times. If he died under his watch, Gaz would be pissed. He wasn't sure he would live past her rage.   
With the threat of Gaz’s wrath in his mind, he pushes at Dib until he rolls over in his palm. The sudden change in position seemed to startle Dib awake, and he pushes himself back to escape from whatever perceived threat he had conjured up. In his haste, he nearly falls off the edge of Zim’s gloved hand. Thankfully, Zim had the quick reflexes to cup his second hand behind the first, and Dib slammed into that instead of plummeting to the floor from a height that would surely kill him.   
Zim flicks Dib’s hair in annoyance, careful to miss his face and risk breaking his nose.   
“Who said you could fall asleep in the presence of the mighty Zim?” He gripes, still slightly rattled from Dib’s assumed injury. 

000

Dib hadn't meant to fall asleep, in fact, he actively tried to prevent it. He managed for a while when he had other things to focus on, such as Zim trying to buy nothing but Lunchables and sprite, and him nearly murdering an innocent store attendant in cold blood after she asked who he was talking to, but after Zim had ceased his near-constant talking, and the only sounds he could hear was the sounds of Zim’s breath and heartbeat, combined with the comfortable heat radiated off of the body beside him, it became almost impossible not to nod off.  
In fact, he didn't awake to any of Zim’s attempts to rouse him, nor upon being taken out of the pocket. He didn't fully wake up until he was rolled over, and ending up with his arm in an awkward position, forcing him to move it so it didn't end up injured. When he opened his eyes, however, they met with another pair of gigantic, still, disguised eyes blinking only inches away from his small frame, causing him to yelp and almost topple off of the fleshy surface he sat on. He was thankfully blocked from the edge before disaster struck, but he still needed a moment to calm his nerves after such a rude awakening. He took the time to wake himself up a bit more as Zim griped at him for falling asleep. 

“It's not my fault I'm so tired. It's not like I can be all high-energy after today.” Dib defended halfheartedly, rolling onto his back in the curve of Zim’s palm. “I'm not too sure my body is super thrilled about having its cells all fucked up,” Dib says, resisting the urge to fall asleep in the palm of his nemesis's hand, as strange as that may sound. 

Dib startles when Zim begins walking, not expecting the sudden movement that whipped his hair backward slightly.   
“Well then why didn't you sleep earlier? I didn't make that bed for nothing, you know.” Zim grumbles, walking towards the part of the living room where Dib’s bed was kept. Dib suppresses a yawn behind his hand.   
“I wanted to help with figuring out what did this to me. I still do, actually. Put me down on that table.” Dib commands, still not being able to will himself into a sitting position. Zim snorts as if the request is utterly ludicrous.   
“No. I don't need you drooling all over my stuff, or falling asleep somewhere you're not supposed to.” Zim says, seemingly annoyed at Dib’s body for flaking out. 

000

After getting Dib to finally lay down and stop insisting on helping, Zim struts over to his desk, still covered in files and papers that detailed the devices and chemicals left on the table when Dib was shrunk. He maps a path in his mind’s eye as he works. The first thing he needs to do is figure out what did this, then he can reverse engineer it. Whatever it takes. 

The night rolls on, and as the light of the moon travels through the dim room, Zim finds himself making no progress. Growling to himself in frustration as he tries not to break the tiny machine he is taking apart, he leans back in his chair, closing his eyes and wondering if he should just call it quits for the night. He doesn't get a chance to put that plan into action, however, as he feels a small pressure on the top of his boot that he hadn't noticed before. He twitches, body ready to kick away the anomaly, but he manages to still himself before accidentally injuring his classmate. 

Zim leans under the table, glaring down at the small weight, and sure enough, Dib is standing on his boot, looking up at him impatiently. Zim gives him an unimpressed look.   
“I thought you were going to bed,” Zim says flatly, still careful not to move his foot.   
“I was,” Dib says, and Zim frowns at the slight tremble in his voice that humans have when cold. “It's hard to fall asleep in unfamiliar places, and this is about as unfamiliar as it gets.” Zim can see the weariness on Dib’s face, small as it may be.   
“You seemed to have no trouble falling asleep in my pocket,” Zim says, and Dib flushes a bit, waving his hands as if to eliminate the accusation before it reached him.   
“It was warm! Not to mention hearing breathing and heartbeats is incredibly relaxing. Humans are pack animals, remember?” Dib defends, crossing his arms. Zim rolls his eyes and lowers his hand to rest flat, palm side up, besides Dib, who stares at it for a moment, startled. It takes a few deep breaths for him to be ready, but Dib climbs up onto the hand and allows himself to be lifted steadily up towards Zim’s face. Dib drops a bit and is suddenly being held by the back of his coat again, handing over an open pocket.   
“Wait!” Dib cries out, giving Zim a moment of pause. “I can just help with the research. I'll sleep later.” Dib argues, kicking out against Zim’s hold. Zim laughs, and Dib can feel his ears ringing slightly at the closeness.   
“Please. I don't want you falling asleep on the floor where anyone can step on you. You humans have no natural armor, its frankly a bit pathetic.” Zim says, dropping Dib into his chest pocket before he can even have a chance to look annoyed.   
Dib thrashes around in the loose fabric for a few seconds, determined to be enough of a nuisance that his nemesis has to set him free, but is quickly burned out by the ordeal of moving through what was essentially thick blankets, and goes still, breathing heavily. Dib tries to resist the beckoning call of rest, but the gentle swaying of breath and the heartbeat that sounded like distant thunder forced him under yet again. 

Outside of the pocket, Zim finds himself somehow inspired to continue in his research. As much as he would love to go do something else, the small weight against his chest reminded him of what he was doing, and how vital it was that he did it right. 

000

When Dib wakes up, he is immediately disoriented. He thinks, for a moment, that he is back home, thrashing in his tangle of blankets after breaking out of the throes of a nightmare. When he wakes up a bit more, he is aware of being thrown around slightly, throwing his theory about being wrapped up in his sheets out the window.   
The events of the last day come back to his drowsy mind, and he calls out for Zim, ignoring the twisting in his gut at the reminder of his dependence on Zim right now. The space around him stops moving quite so erratically, and Dib is able to relax for a moment before two large, clawed fingers reach down from above him. Dib tenses in surprise, but allows Zim to lift him up and out of the pocket. He is brought into the cool air and bright, fluorescent lights of Zim’s kitchen, and has to repress a shiver at the chill in the air that easily permeated his thin skin. 

He is disoriented for a moment as Zim flips him over so that he rests more securely in the palm of his hand. Dib looks up to Zim, who was focused more on whatever he was working on than Dib.   
“Good morning, human,” Zim says, still not looking at Dib. Dib says it back, stretching his arms over his head as he sat in Zim’s hand. Zim scowled vaguely at the feeling of the small body shuddering in his hand and looked to Dib to reprimand him.   
Zim turned to look at Dib, opening his mouth to say something snotty, no doubt but stopped before he could even get the first syllable out, staring at Dib strangely. Dib blinks at the alien, then looks down at himself to see if there was anything out of the ordinary on him. There wasn't, he was about as put-together as a four-inch teenager sitting in an alien wannabe dictator’s hand could be.   
“What?” Dib asked, still staring down at himself for any flaw that Zim’s eyes may have locked onto. Zim squinted at him.   
“Where is your visor?” Zim asks, poking Dib’s face to better emphasize his point, nearly knocking Dib over in the process. Dib grabs onto the massive digit to steady himself and glares up at Zim once he has regained stability.   
“What are you talking about?” Dib gripes, shoving away Zim's hand. Zim waves his free hand in front of his eyes as if that explained anything at all. Dib stared at Zim blankly for a moment while he waited for his still drowsy brain to catch up to what was happening around him. 

Realization dawned upon him suddenly, and Dib’s eyes widened suddenly.   
“Oh! You mean my glasses! Yeah, those are right here.” Dib explained, unhooking them from the collar of his shirt. He puts them back on and blinks a few times to get his eyes used to the change in clarity. Zim looks at him testily and then sets him on the counter while he continues making what Dib can only assume are omelets. When he learned to make omelets Dib had no idea.   
“Thanks for making breakfast for me,” Dib says, only feeling slightly awkward about the oddly domestic scene. Zim sniffs loftily, hoisting the egg mush onto a plate.   
“I'm not making breakfast for you! I'm making breakfast for… Gir. You are just getting the leftovers so that you do not starve to death and invoke your sister unit's wrath upon Zim!” Zim crows, pointing the greasy spatula at Dib and causing him to take a step backward. 

000

After the realization that there was no way for Dib to eat an omelet that outsized him six times, Zim struggled to cut off a piece small enough for him to ingest, and had sauntered off to give the rest of the eggs to Gir, so that it would not rot and stink up the rest of the house.   
Dib keeps eating after Zim left the room, but finished and found himself quickly bored just sitting on the cold countertop. Dib set his small plate beside him and began to wander around the alien expanse of polished wood and plastic. 

He was first drawn to the only interesting thing within walking distance: the edge of the counter. He stands at the edge, slowly leaning over to stare at the linoleum below. His stomach drops with nerves, but he can't seem to make himself move backward. Dib begins to think about a phenomenon he read about once, L’appel du vide or call of the void, in which when a human is in a situation where they are in potential danger, they have trouble pulling themselves away from it. The only explanation Dib seems to have for this concept is that the brain wants to be in control, and what's more controlling than throwing yourself to your own death?   
Dib stares off the edge for a while longer, not truly planning to jump off, but still inching steadily closer. He kneels for balance, leaning so that his body was now halfway off of the counter. Dib laughs uneasily, thrilled by the adrenaline rush that came with the danger.   
“DIB-HUMAN!” Zim shrieked from the kitchen doorway, apparently finally having returned to see Dib’s recklessness. The shout startles Dib just enough to cause him to lose his balance and begin to waver, and horrifyingly, to topple off the countertop and to the unforgiving floor below. Luckily for him, Dib’s predication about Zim being able to move very quickly to get Dib out of danger comes to pass, and he moves across the small kitchen at anomalous speeds, hand darting out to catch Dib in a tight fist before he hit the floor.   
They both stare at each other for a moment before breathing a sigh of relief. Then Dib notices how uncomfortably tight Zim’s grip is, and writhes a bit in his hand, trying to avoid having his ribs broken. Zim seems to notice his discomfort, eyes still wide and loosens his grip, grumbling something about Dib being reckless.

“What were you thinking! A drop like that would kill you!” Zim says, just on the cusp of bursting Dib’s eardrums. If Dib’s arms weren't pinned to the side, he would have thrown them up into the air in exasperation.   
“Well, I wouldn't have fallen if you would stop screaming every time you enter a room!” Dib shouted back. Zim brought a free hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose (at least Dib assumes that's where his nose would be.)  
“Are you really going to make it so hard to keep you from being killed for as long as you're like this? This is my first time defending any organic being, and you're already stupidly delicate at your normal size. Can you just go easy on me here, shitheel?” Zim asked, seemingly embarrassed at having to admit that he cared whether Dib lived or died.   
“Who taught you all these swears?” Dib asks, half out of genuine curiosity, half out of an eagerness to change the subject. Zim rolls his eyes.  
“Gir and I have started watching ‘reality television’.” 

Once Zim manages to pause in his shouting long enough for Dib to get a word in, they decide to spend some time working on figuring out more what happened to Dib, and Dib catches Zim staring at him when he gets too close to the edge of the table more than once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyyyy...so funny story...this chapter has been done for like a week I just kept forgetting to edit it... my friend lent me his switch and everything has been taking a backseat while I play stardew valley.   
Hope you enjoy anyway! Leave a comment if you liked it or if you have a scene suggestion! 
> 
> -ghostbitch 👻💋


	4. NOT AN UPDATE

Hello dear readers, this is ghostbitch checking in! If you have been following this story you may have noticed the lack of updates, and I first and foremost would like to sincerely apologize for that. While I found this story incredibly fun to write, there isn't much there in terms of plot, and it can be very frustrating to feel like something you're writing isn't going anywhere. There is also the issue of my interest in Invader Zim fading a bit. I still love the show! But my enthusiasm for writing for it has sunk quite a bit. 

So it’s likely that this will not be continued. I may pick it up to do a short, one-off chapter everyone once in a while, but past that I just don't feel inspired to finish this story. 

But! The concept is still super fun! That is why I am putting out an offer for any of the readers of this who also write for this great website to build off of this story. Either as a continuation of what I’ve already written, or just a story with the same plot in your own voice! If that interests any of you, please let me know and link me to it when you've posted it! I would love to see it! One other thing about that, if you are going to use this story as a base or a template, I have a few things to ask of you: 

Please credit me somewhere! In the summary or the notes or something, I don't want this going completely under! Also please do not repost my work as your own, even with credit. If you are going to write a continuation please link to my story instead of reposting my chapters before your own. 

Thank you all for your patience and loyalty, and I hope you all have a wonderful year!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everything!


End file.
